


myosotis

by Aminias



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Peter gets sent back in time, Peters Lack of Morals, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, get ready for the long haul, this fic is gonna kill me, we go with honor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aminias/pseuds/Aminias
Summary: But oh! if grief thy steps attend, If want, if sickness be thy lot, And thou require a soothing friend, Forget me not! Forget me not!Peter Hale is going back in time whether he wants to or not. Since he's there he's going to take them make them his not reshape them no he’s going to reshape himself. As a pack, they will triumph. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks?





	myosotis

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, first a big thanks to Slasher_Fiend for looking this over and holding my hand when plotting. 
> 
> Cause' time travel Stiles wasn't challenging enough and neither was getting enough money to support myself (thats a lie someone lend me some sugar) I wrote Time Travel Peter.
> 
> This may not be the time travel fic the fandom wants but its the time travel fic the fandom needs.
> 
> Peters, not a nice guy which is why we like him keep that in mind he has his own plots. 
> 
>  
> 
> Walk with me down one more road less travled.

 

His breath rolled out in ghostly clouds, the night chill haunting his skin. Peter cleaved the last corpse's head from its shoulders and turned to look at his companion. The fragrance of flowers, iron, and death cloyed together. Hardly the end of the year and this was the second ‘big bad’ they’d faced. Here they were by the Nemeton were it had all began. 

 

“Everybody wants to rule the world.” Stiles ever the critic muttered from where he sagged against the Nemeton.  _ The people feared to approach the grove, and even the priest would not walk there at midday or midnight lest he should then meet its divine guardian.  _ The wolf's mind supplied as he sat down among the roots with the young Spark.

 

“Not me.” Peter protested clutching the younger man to him. His skin alight with gooseflesh and his nose twitching. The scent of fresh blood and decomposing corpse inundating him. 

 

“Liar.” Stiles laughed and his chest seized, fresh blood staining his shirt front.

Peter winced, able to hear the squelching in his chest. The wolf clutched the pale young man to him like any moment he’d break apart. Stiles’ eyes were shadowed by rings of black. Dark circles that had long become permanent over pronounced cheekbones. His face was drawn taut, a canvas stretched too tightly over a wooden frame. 

 

“You hush now. I would have settled for this town.” The wolf informed him. Would have settled for Stiles. Peter can’t help but wonder how things would have turned out if he’d accepted the bite in that parking garage so many years ago. He’d wanted to the temptation had been betrayed by his eyes. Oh, how Peter knew he’d wanted to. The way his pulse had raced and his skin had flushed. 

 

Stiles blinked up at him mouth twisted in a grimace, eyes thoughtful as he leaned on both him and the tree stump. “Would you have?” The man asked a note of finality in his voice. 

 

Peter dithered for a moment mulling it over. “Yes, I would.” Stiles above all others grasped the meaning behind his words. Reassured, the young man smiled up at him and Peter knew he was understood. Always so alike the both of them.  _ Willing to do what needs to be done.  _ Stiles' hands were currently so drenched with red it’d take days to quit seeing the color. It was so pesky to remove blood from under one's nails. After a while, you never stopped finding it there. 

 

“You’ve always been the comeback king you handsome abomination.” The man coughed again and he was a man the years had stripped him of any softness. Stiles gleamed in the mild darkness a knife drawn from its sheath.  He was a man and he was dying. Peter could only press his hands into Stiles' chest and keep him company till help arrived. If help arrived. 

 

“I’m a hedonist, living has its appeals.” Peter leered playfully sweeping his eyes over Stiles drawn figure. They always knew one day he wouldn’t make it in time. 

_ Mentioning Peter’s deaths and subsequent revivals so close to his own. . . .  _

 

“What are you getting at Stiles?”

“I’m getting at dying, why don’t you hush up and let me.”

“No, I refuse,” Peter told him as if will alone would stem the bleeding. His eyes met Stiles he saw the resolve there and it twisted his gut. They’d had so little time. Lately, the bond between them had strengthened. He could feel even now, the low thrum of pack stretched around them. The wild hunt had brought them closer than ever, Peter closer than ever to what he wanted only to steal. 

 

“You’ve got to let me go silly wolf.” Stiles hand soaked red touched his chest. The man's body shuddering, another wet crunching noise. He didn’t remove his hand from Peter's chest, finger idly tracing over his skin. Peter didn’t look, couldn’t bare to drag his gaze from Stiles' face.

 

If he hadn’t missed the tell tale glow of molten amber in Stiles' eyes, the heavy thrum of magic in the air would have clued him in. Shadows rustled, hungry and impatient. The night held its breath, stars hid too scared to shine. He could have sworn the roots of the Nemeton moved.

The wind screamed one word:  _ Run. _

 

Peter finally looked at the rune on his chest painstakingly drawn in Stiles own blood. 

No, no, no.  He let Stiles go in shock. Willing his throat to open, his mouth to speak to reprimand his foolish boy. 

“You perfected it?” He finally gasped out, clutching his own chest as the world shifted. He couldn't move, rooted to the spot by Stiles’ will, the magic holding him fast. The sky rolls awash with color stars swimming closer into focus. 

 

“Sparks,” Deaton had said. “Need only believe.” It feels so distant, the ages spent pouring over books, long debates heated and futile. Learning  Sparks actions were more akin to do or do not there is no try. What Deaton said before? Understatement.  The man was so fond of them. That’s one death Peter hadn’t minded in the least. 

 

“Course I did.” Grinning wryly Stiles staggered to his feet, hands aglow. He swayed once twice and stood. Peter pushed against his unseen constraints growling in frustration. 

 

“Have a nice trip.” He winked at Peter As if this were any common enemy. As if it were a normal day and he was out to pick up something from the store: ‘be back in a bit’. As if the place where Peter’s heart should be wasn’t shattering. 

 

“Don’t do this,” Peter demanded as reality fragmented around him. He’d never pleaded before but he was willing to learn. Stiles laughed, desperate and choked. 

Stiles had spoken of a different future before, a different past rather. Feeling indulgent Peter spent hours pouring over tomes and articles. The other instance a heavily medicated Stiles laid out on the pack house couch had mused about the past. The young man caught him in a rare mood. Peter upon request had spoken himself hoarse explaining what he would have done. Those plans had one thing in common,  _ Stiles.  _   


Never had Peter considered an eventuality without him. 

 

“You look out for your best interests.”  

_ You look out for yourself.   _

 

The earlier cloying scents, of danger and soft fragrance of blossoms amplified. Death lurked among the tree’s teeth bared in anticipation, jaws closing in. 

 

“You are my best interest.” 

_ I love you.   _

 

Blackness swirled, the stars collided, Stiles hands glowed and his mouth bled.

Then Peter's conscience flung itself from his body and the world  _ s h i f t e d _ . 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr and the comments are still open to hearing Alpha Peter head canons and thoughts as well as Peter thoughts. 
> 
> @shudder-dove
> 
> The Major Charrie warning was for this part only.


End file.
